Surviving
by The Undiscovered Country
Summary: Life after the war was supposed to be bright and hopeful, but it seems Harry's world has fallen into darkness. As canon as possible with some upsets. Not all is well. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1- The End

_**Disclaimer:**_ The Harry Potter World and the characters therein remain the sole intellectual property of J.K Rowling. Therefore all stories written by myself on the basis of Harry Potter remain hers.

Now, I've chosen a poor time to begin writing my first fanfic (uni exams), and so I cannot guarantee timeliness. As it is my first however, I would _love_ criticism (don't be nasty), especially on matters of character realism.

I don't want to waste too much time so I won't. ENJOY!

* * *

Harry was alive. But his existence was far from the thoughts that plagued his mind as the trio stumbled through to the Great Hall. Swimming in his eyes, alive in his thoughts, not blurred by the tears that grew in them, were images of the battle past. Accompanied with pain from the wounds that struggled to gain his attention, he remembered. He remembered the lives lost, Fred, Colin Creevey, Remus, Tonks, and the image of horror as Greyback fed on Lavender. Hell, even the vision of Snape bleeding profusely haunted him.

He took in his surroundings but they seemed to mirror his thoughts as those who were lost in the battle lay side by side. In the mass of the grieving was a blob of red. It was then that Harry realised Ron had left him to drown in his own sorrow at the sight of Fred's body. Hermione, it seemed, had ran with him, at the moment she was his sole comfort. Not wanting to add to the sadness, Harry stayed away from the Weasleys, and walked solemnly to where Madam Pomfrey had wounded to attend to.

"Excuse me?" he prodded tentatively, "is there anything I can do? Anything at all?" Harry's eyes begged, wringing his hands, needing to calm them with work.

"Oh Harry dear, you're hurt yourself. No, get some rest first, you've been at it for too long." Madam Pomfrey herself pleaded with eyes set stern in seeking her goal.

"Please. I can't do nothing," he returned, not wanting to give the full reason for his eagerness to work until fatigued. He felt responsible for the wounded, and like he caused the deaths. Maybe the healer saw this in him, because she softened and beckoned him to attend to those with minor wounds, able to be healed with dittany.

He set to work. It wasn't nice, looking at the people whom he'd caused so much pain. He daren't look them in the eyes but hoped that he was on the path to forgiveness with each drop of the haling potion. Some were shallow, but broad injuries, others reminded him painfully when Ron was splinched.

Whispers were heard behind him, they were from Hermione, he guessed. He didn't turn to look her, instead he stopped his thoughts and concentrated on the wounded.

"Harry?" her voice was a mere breath of wind as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I-" he started but couldn't continue.

"I've talked to Madam Pomfrey, she can do without you for now. Come. We need you."

Slowly he stoppered the dittany and placed it down but still could not find the courage to look at her as he surveyed the wounded, maybe for the 50th time that afternoon. It was only the afternoon, slowly turning into night.

Hands gripped under his arms and put pressure to lift him from his kneeling position, he let them and began to stand up. They turned him around. The owner of the hands just looked at him with a mixture of worry and sorrow. Somewhere in them however, somehow, was happiness.

Harry took Hermione into his arms now and each let tears fall. Harry saw the Weasleys for the first time since he walked into the Great Hall two hours ago. They were different now. They weren't an ugly grieving mess, separated by the death of their son and brother. Now they were huddled together away from Fred, whispering what looked like secrets of familial love. Not looking at the rest of the hall, only the Weasley's, Harry found himself capable of forming a slight smile. Hermione must have noticed.

"Don't leave us Harry," she begged. Harry couldn't help but notice the new significance of the word 'us'. "We're in that family now," she continued, "We're a part of that sorrow. We're a part of that love. That love that you can see, it's shared with us now too."

"Can I go over? I want to see them, I need to see Fr-" he choked.

Hermione didn't answer but instead took his hand and pulled him over to where the bodies lay. Most of them were now covered with white sheets in respect, including Fred. He kneeled down beside the body he knew to be of the prankster, but didn't uncover the face. He felt like he didn't have permission. Who was he to uncover the sorrow of the Weasley family after they had finally slowed to release soft tears instead of the heavy sobs he'd seen them in earlier? Hermione must have felt the same because she simply stood, steadying herself with Harry's shoulders.

Molly Weasley stepped silently from her family to stand behind him next to Hermione. Harry was not ready for what he saw when he looked up to her. A mixture of tears, sweat, blood and dirt was smeared onto the aging skin of the Weasley matriarch. She didn't deserve this. She should at home, warm in her husband's arms, annoyed with her children. All seven of them.

She nodded towards Fred's body covered by the sheet, and then at Harry. He understood the meaning, but could not ignore the immediate response of her body when drew back the sheet to reveal Fred's face. Her body shook as a wave of fresh sobs washed over her. She wasn't the only one. Harry, Hermione, and those of the Weasley clan who noticed the disturbance of their departed's body all wept freely again.

He was still smiling. His face left uninjured. Harry didn't want to see his body. His orange hair was ruffled a bit, like he was tossing and turning in his sleep. Maybe from a good dream. Harry rummaged in his pocket and found what he sought, one of the extendable ears he'd brought with him on the nine month journey. He found Fred's hands clasped together on his chest and placed the joke item within them. Afraid of running out of tears if he continued to look at the body, he covered Fred once more and grabbed Molly into a fierce hug as she'd dropped to her knees.

He needed to show he was sorry, and attempted to use the warmth of his body as an apology. She accepted it and hugged him tight in return.

Harry managed to break away long enough to sound a muffled "I'm sorry."

Again, this was accepted with strong hug, but eventually it was Molly's turn to push away to say "It's time to rest."


	2. Chapter 2 - Recovering

Harry had walked away from Fred's body only slightly comforted by his interaction with the matriarch. Now he made his way through the castle walking a few paces behind the Weasley clan towards the Gryffindor common room, with Hermione stuck to Ron's arm. While he wished to spend as little time as possible on the battlefield, Harry's pace was slowed due to another reluctance to take his eyes off his feet. It was a catch-22. Everything from cracks in the glass to broken stone on the ground reminded him of the battle, of the dead. He couldn't even look ahead at his adoptive family to be reminded. Yet the less he looked, the longer he was surrounded by it.

When he finally clambered through the portrait he was reminded another fact. He hadn't entered this room since the last days of Dumbledore. He continued pondering the significance of that as he made his way to his old four poster bed without so much as a wave to the others. It seemed impossible but the sorrow that had encased him then, little under a year ago, seemed nothing compared to it now. His thoughts ceased once his head found the pillow. He assumed Ron had entered the room just behind him but did not bother to check, instead he fell into a long sleep.

 _"I've failed! He's dead but I've failed! I've murdered people, they died because of my failures!" Harry's voice grew more coarse with each word shouted._

 _"Yeah, you've failed! We lost a brother because of you. What couldn't you die!" the voice was Ron's but the person who slammed the door was a distraught Ginny. His Ginny. Was she his?_

 _Remus sneered at him now, half hugging his wife, "look was you've done to my son! How proud your parents would be to see their son orphan another!"_

 _"Kill me! I was ready!"_

Harry felt those words escape his physical form before he'd awoken. His sheets were dishevelled and his pillow thrown to the ground. Ron stood over him pale with shock, while Hermione sat by his side tears falling to match his own.

"Shh.. H-Harry, it w-was just a dream," she soothed.

"I was there. I couldn't help. I felt my own wand curse them into death, do I not deserve the same fate?" Harry asked them, somewhat selfishly as he forced Hermione to break down into uncontrollable throaty tears. He couldn't help but notice himself how calm his voice was at the suggestion despite the sickness inside him.

"Stop!" she barely managed to cry in between tear and mucus lined breaths.

"Go back to bed Harry," Ron aimed his wand at Harry's forehead.

"R-Ron!"

"No! I won't have him speak like that. It's not this brother lying dead in the Great Hall," Ron pulled Hermione away from Harry leading her to his bed where his took her in his arms. Each comforting the other.

Without another word Harry took his leave, not back to his nightmares but to the common room. Snores sounded throughout the room, heightened by the silent of the night. The lounges were used as makeshift beds by the parents who'd come to fight. He saw Mr and Mrs Weasley curled up together in the corner. He eerily remembered it was the same corner that the twins would plan their joke items in.

Though it was spring, he lit the fire and sat silently in front of it. He let the fire dry his tears and became immersed in the dancing flames. He sat there until the sun had risen, not thinking, just watching and listening to the music the flames made.

When the flames died down he found it impossible to think of anything but death. Those he'd unwittingly killed, and those he'd almost killed were the hot topic to spin through his mind. To fill his mind with other matters he left the common room in search of Kingsley, or at least a professor. On his way he repaired minor damages such as broken windows ( _reparo_ ) or inanimate statues. In some cases, he cast _tergeo_ to syphon pools of blood scattered throughout the corridors.

Although he'd initially thought to avoid it, Harry found himself again in the Great Hall. Now there were only three live among the dead. Kingsley, McGonagall and another short, stubby man stood in a circle talking quietly to themselves.

"Professor? Minister?" Harry called over the dead bodies.

"Uh Harry! I'd have thought you'd still be sleeping!" Kingsley greeted him as Harry strode further towards the group.

"This is Harry Potter? I must say, it is an honour! If it were under better circumstances, I might even say it was a pleasure," the unknown man pulled Harry in to shake his hand.

"Good morning, Mr?"

"Uh, yes, sorry. Mr Highwater."

"Mr Highwater here," Kingsley began, "is taking the bodies away to prepare them for the funerals."

"Sir, I'm afraid you've a big job ahead of you," Harry spoke to Highwater, tears again lining his eyes, but he didn't take them away from the undertaker's.

The four of them lowered their heads in respect to the dead.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" McGonagall eventually asked.

"Sleep. Couldn't," he replied in mumbled utterings, rubbing his face into his soot stained hands.

"Go to Madam Pomfrey and take sleeping drought," McGonagall's eyes turned hard, "I will not take no for an answer."

Harry sighed. To be perfectly honest he would love to sleep at the moment, he just didn't want to succumb to failure again. He wanted to, needed to do something. It seemed the adults knew him better than he did, or perhaps his eyes were another thing that failed him because McGonagall saw something in his reluctance.

"Harry," her eyes were now soft and broken, "it will be dreamless, I promise."

Her insight into his thoughts painfully reminded him of another teacher.

"Professor Snape!"

"What about him Harry?" said Kingsley, although all three pairs of eyes were asking the question.

"Don't… He was good. He… he was working for _us_ until the end," Harry didn't shed tears now, but looked up at his elders with a stern, brave face.

"How can you be sure?" It was McGonagall this time.

"This is me talking Professor. Anyway, I saw it with my own eyes. Pensieve," was all he returned.

McGonagall and the Minister simply nodded, Highwater attempted not to intrude whatever revelation was taking place and remained silent.

"Harry. Go, sleep. Kingsley and I will with have Mr Highwater take Professor Snape along with the others. Do you know where he is?"

"Shrieking shack," Harry waved his hands towards the doors, he didn't know why, but he didn't feel like keeping them still. He didn't bother to stay around and instead made his way to the hospital wing. Climbing the marble stairs took more out of him than descending them earlier and when he finally collapsed upon opening the doors into the hospital, part of him was grateful.

This time he didn't dream. It was blissful. A canvas of black impenetrable to images of horror. Unfortunately he had to wake sometime.

"Harry?"

It was Ginny.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hey! I'm sorry for being late. As I said, I picked the worst time to start writing (exam time!). After next week I should be able to write more frequently.

* * *

Harry's eyes sprung open immediately. His thoughts seemed to forget where he was as he drunk in the sight of her. Ginny was awfully dishevelled resting in the chair next to him. Her gorgeous red hair was matted and pulled into a rough pony tail, away from her sunken eyes. Dirt covered her. Everywhere. Harry didn't mind, in fact, he felt his lips curve to a smile as he reached to pull her in his arms.

Halfway there, he stopped, and jerked back towards the bed, lips straightening. Fred's brown eyes were staring back at him. He tried to shake the image from his eyes.

"Good morning Gin,' he managed.

She smiled cautiously, the concern in her eyes at his actions weren't hidden, "more like good afternoon."

He nodded and propped himself up on his elbows so he could look around. All the beds in the hospital wing were filled. Most had visitors, the others looked to be asleep. There were men and were men and women in uniforms walking around, surveying the survivors.

"Healers," Ginny spoke, seeing his eyebrows furrow, "sent from St. Mungo's."

"Oh."

"I'll go tell the others you're awake," she stood up to leave, pausing to gaze down at him.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't think of any viable words. What could he say? 'I know I abandoned you, but I love you'? Then again, she had been there next to him, did she want him back?

Before he could make his decision she was gone.

A few minutes later Hermione rushed in, Ron a few steps behind her. No Ginny.

"Harry! We woke and you were gone! We looked everywhere for you! We thought…" Hermione only just managed to stop herself.

Harry held her hand reassuringly, "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left."

He turned to Ron and they shared an apologetic nod.

"Harry, we don't want you to do this on your own," Hermione was calm and collected, "Unfortunately we survived. Don't look at me like that Ron! We all thought it. But just because we survived doesn't mean we can't live Harry. But, I know, not even I could dare do it by myself. We need each other, I need you. Both of you."

Harry sprung out of bed to stand equal with Hermione and dragged her into a hug, Ron with it.

"I don't know how we did it," he mumbled.

"We did it together mate," Ron spoke for the first time since the night before.

"You know," Hermione pushed away, "We're going to have to explain how we actually did do it."

"Hmm…" Harry thought. He guessed it might come to this, and there was no reason to withhold the information anymore. At least from the Weasleys.

"The world can't know about the horcuxes," Ron suddenly exclaimed. When he saw the bewildered look on Harry and Hermione's faces he continued, "There are death eaters still out there. What if they copy you-kn… Voldemort. What if they copy Voldemort? We can't risk it. We'll just say we were destroying his weapons. That's what they were right? Weapons."

Ron seemed physically strained at this realisation, at the possibility of more 'Voldemorts'. Harry and Hermione looked at him as though they'd never thought of this before, yet Harry realised Hermione's expression showed more pride than surprise.

"So, you two then?" Harry broke the silence.

They both turn pink, but Ron's ears lit up.

"I'm not sure if I can allow that Ron," he continued, imitating fury.

"What?" They both looked up in fright.

"She's my sister!"

Somehow Hermione was in tears again, but this time he could see it was from happiness. She gave him a half hug, the other hand became entwined with Ron's.

Harry let her go, "I'm really happy for you, for your happiness. Maybe something came out of this darkness."

Hermione's expression became a mixture of pleasure and pity. Ron, wasn't listening, he was too busy staring dreamily into Hermione's eyes, or was he looking down her shirt? Harry shook his head, he was definitely not going to get used to that.

Intent on removing such thoughts out of his mind, he succumbed to his needs, mumbling "I'm starvin'!" and set off out of the hospital wing.

They didn't make it far, a few steps out of the doors and Harry stopped dead, the other two almost ran into him. Being the smart witch she was, Hermione pushed him forward, informing him the Great Hall was once again set up for feeding the masses. With a sigh of relief, he continued forward.

The Great Hall was indeed feeding the masses, bodies and rubble removed, the four tables were full of students, both past and present. Houses were no longer necessary, people sat where seats were free. By habit however, the trio's eyes searched the Gryffindor table for familiar faces, and luckily found the still-grieving Weasleys. They looked up at the trio with half-hearted smiles, all except George who continued staring at his packed plate.

"The people of the hour!" Arthur Weasley attempted to jest, "Come sit, before your mother forces you to eat."

The trio looked at the matriarch who feigned smile and then continued to take minuscule bites. Hermione tilted her head towards Mrs Weasley with shining eyes. The two shared a moment's silence which ended in Hermione's hand leading Ron to sit between Bill and Ginny. Harry was unable to move, he felt the guilt pouring over him again. Worse, all he could do was stare at Ginny's long red hair.

Realising her _five_ brothers were now looking at him, he sat next to Charlie who in turn was sitting next to George.

"How you doin' Harry?" Charlie inquired.

"OK, I guess," Harry's eyes drifted around the room to look at the newly widowed and lonely.

"You three kids, you're unbelievable! I mean, my own brother breaking into Gringotts! And releasing a dragon at that!" Charlie laughed to himself, noticeably forced yet welcome at the table.

"Hey Bill!" Harry called over to the oldest sibling, "What do you think will happen with Gringotts? With us?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. It'll be a matter for the Wizengamot to decide, otherwise I couldn't see the goblins allowing in there again," Bills face was stern and his voice fierce, "mind you, they've broken the law themselves haven't they Charlie?

"Blimey! They'll get it big time! Dragon underneath a city like London? Mind you though, I've got these three to thank for making our work harder to try and find the girl! Uh, don't worry yourself Harry, you guys did her a massive favour," Charlie gave a comforting thump to Harry's back.

Harry faked a smile and shrugged. Deciding that his empty stomach would not help his feelings, he finally began to eat.

Most of that day was spent gathering their thoughts, planning funerals and generally spending time together. The trio had planned to tell their story to the Weasleys and those of the order the next morning. The night was dreamless, all given sleeping droughts to calm their minds.

Harry woke to a snuggling Ron and Hermione in the adjacent bed. Neville chose to leave with his grandmother, Seamus took Dean home with him. Over the course of the previous day families had taken their injured and dead home leaving only a few left to clean up. They were alone. Harry bathed and dressed silently in the stony bathroom. He heard mumbling from behind the door.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice called.

"I'm here," Harry came out, "You realise I'm not going to be in bed every morning you wake up?" His statement came out more harsh than he'd intended.

"Come on, we should get dressed, the meetings in an hour," Ron pulled Hermione out of her distress, but unwittingly into a new one.

"AN HOUR? You two. Sit. Now!" They obliged without question.

 _She'd be a fearsome Headmistress if she wanted to be,_ Harry thought.

Hermione paced, biting her bottom lip as she thought with the two boys left to sit awkwardly on the end of Harry's bed.

"How do we explain-"

"Me leaving?" Ron interrupted.

"-Everything!" Hermione let go of her frustration with herself.

"I thought we weren't going to explain _everything_ ," Harry added, but when he saw their confused faces he continued, "Well, we can't just rat out Luna's father. And we can't lie about Christmas because Bill and Fleur know. We definitely need to explain Gringotts to clear our names, but how can the Ministry explain it to the public without knowing my connection to Voldemort?" Harry realised the frustration Hermione was having.

"People can know of your connection to Voldemort without knowing about horcuxes right? It's not stretching the truth nor giving much away if we just say since the first Avada Kedavra curse you've been linked," Ron looked up at Hermione for confirmation to go on, she nodded, "As for Luna's father, we'll say they ambushed us, expecting us to show up at Ottery St. Catchpole. You two can choose what to say about me. I don't want to lie to my family."

The three nodded in agreement leaving the room and headed for the Headmaster's office, currently occupied by Professor McGonagall.


	4. Chapter 4

"So…" Harry looked around at the faces staring at him, begging him to go on. The room was full of the remaining members of the order and Weasley family, with a fair amount of crossover. Some, like Molly Weasley, already looked in tears wanting to know why their loved ones were dead, others looked to be eager on the facts, just _how_ three teenagers killed the dark wizard. "We're going to have to start from the top. Before Tom Riddle was even born," and Harry began to recite the origin of Tom Riddle, his fascination with powerful, precious objects, and finally to the creation of horcruxes.

"Yes Harry," Kingsley finally cut in, "You mentioned horcruxes during the battle, is that how you…?"

Harry simply nodded.

"Yes, but, why?" Arthur seemed to beg.

"Voldemort wanted to be immune from death. So, he made these horcruxes with the objects, Marvolo's ring, the locket. He put his soul into them," Harry replied, "There's more though, I'm sure Kingsley knows."

"It's horrible!" Hermione cut in. When all eyes were on her and Harry nodded for her to continue, she did, "He didn't just put his soul into them, he had to rip it in half each time. He made seven-"

"Seven? I thought there were 6?" Ginny piped up holding 5 fingers and a thumb in the air as if counting.

"We'll get to that later," Harry put his hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione swallowed hard and went on, "He made seven. He ripped his soul in half seven times. He barely had a one hundredth of his soul left within him! And… each time he wanted a horcrux, he had to use the evil of killing another human to make one."

There were a few gasps at this information, but it seemed everyone was becoming less and less surprised just how evil Voldemort was.

"How did you find out how to destroy them?" Aberforth sounded from the back of the room, he seemed to be forcibly facing away from his brother's portrait who was sleeping.

"Well it was Hermione! She was brilliant!" Ron added gleefully.

"Huh! So my brother was-"

"Not now Aberforth!" boomed Hagrid, "Yer wanna speak ill o' yer brother yeh might wanna turn 'round and face him!

Harry gave a nod of thanks to Hagrid who seemed chuffed and returned to stand beside the door.

"Then, it was our first year at Hogwarts," Hermione breathed with Ron and Harry echoing her.

They shared the responsibility of retelling their schooling years in full. The order stood with stern faces, but Mrs Weasley was in tears for most of the retelling. After an hour stuck in the Headmaster's office Harry declared it was a time for a break, mostly because he was again starving, but partly because he knew they'd need time to process the first lot of information.

Harry ate to the exhaustion, all three of them did. The luxury of the Hogwarts lunch was most definitely not lost on those who'd eaten mushroom stew for near nine months. Harry went for a walk afterwards, a clear head was needed for the next ordeal of storytelling. Unfortunately he didn't get far when-

"Ginny?" He called. She was sat against the cold stone of the corridor walls, eyes red and puffy, fresh tears falling anew.

She didn't reply but sucked air in deep through a mucus lined throat.

He didn't stop, or turn around, or dare ask questions. Instead, he sat. His body didn't shiver at the touch of the stone scraping his back when his shirt lifted up. Nor did he wince when his coccyx slammed to the ground. His eyes remained glued to hers as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"I hate you," she finally whispered.

His muscles stiffened but she continued.

"I hate that you left me. I hate how much you kept from me."

"I had to-"

She kissed him. It was soft, muffled by tears and high-strung emotions.

She pulled away, "But I love you. Don't leave me again Harry James Potter."

As she spoke her lips grazed his.

"I never wanted to," he breathed.

They heard footsteps round the nearest corner but felt content to savour their moment of reconciliation.

"I'm sorry but, Harry? Ginny?" Hermione guessed the significance of the situation and spoke with kindness Harry couldn't believe, "Everyone's regrouping. I'll wait outside the office for you."

Harry glanced over to share an appreciative nod with Hermione, then set to helping Ginny regain strength to walk. They walked side-by-side, hand-in-hand until they almost rounded the corner to meet the ruined gargoyle when Harry pulled her back.

"I can't promise the next lot of information is… nice. I can't promise you, your family or even I won't be in tears. But," he looked around, "I need you to promise this won't change how you look at Ron, Hermione or myself."

"I don't under-"

"Just, please. Because know that aside from having great pride in them, I don't treat them differently, and I don't want others to either," he pleaded.

Ginny conceded and promised him, placing a kiss on his forehead.

This time she was the one who pulled him forward and towards the gargoyle.

"You ready Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Let's get it over with," and they climbed the stairs.

* * *

"Right after we left the wedding we went to London, but ran into a few Death Eaters," Ron began the story, "so we made the decision to go to Grimmauld Place."

A few mumblings sounded from across the room, mostly from those in the order who doubted its safety after Dumbledore's murder, most notably Aberforth. No one spoke against the golden trio. Ginny was sat next to Harry on the lounge, with the premise that she would support him. Whether she was supporting him or he her, it was hard to tell. Similarly, Hermione's hand gripped Ron's shoulder half to steady him, and half to steady herself. They were all in this together, they were all supporting each other.

Ron continued to outline their discovery of the fake locket's origin, the whereabouts about the true horcrux, and their reconnaissance missions.

"Mr Weasley," Hermione started, "I'm sure you've heard stories about the Ministry break-in."

"Yes," Arthur coughed, "I was there that day. But so much was covered up."

"I saw you," Harry spoke unexpectantly, "I was Runcorn. I tried to warn you that you were being watched. I looked at your file," his lips twitched upwards into a smile but he threw his head down in embarrassment.

"Thank you Harry," Arthur returned a full smile.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand, "Go on Hermione."

Hermione explained the day at the Ministry, then to Ron's injury. "It was terrifying. Not only was Ron in need of medical care, but we were fugitives with only what I had in my bag. No food, no communication. And what's worse, we were stuck with that bloody horcrux!" Hermione threw her hands up in frustration.

Harry was slightly shocked at her language but took over, "Voldemort was ruining us. His soul, the part that was inside the locket was feeding on our fears, we grew distant. Ron…" Haryy chanced a gance over to his best firend who indicated he should continue, "Ron and I fought. We were both fearing the worst for you all, as well worrying that we were going nowhere in our mission to stop Voldemort. I… I said some things to him that I shouldn't have, I ordered him to leave."

Drooping head suddenly picked and eyes darted about the three teenagers. _Ron Weasley left the golden trio?_

"It was my fault," Harry threw his hands up defensively and then brought them back to his chest, "I shouldn't have yelled at him. Said the things I said."

"No mate it was-"

"STOP!" Hermione interrupted Ron, "Everyone you need to understand that we had a piece of Voldemort hanging 'round our necks for the better third of each day. He invades your thoughts and your hearts, it makes you see and hear things that aren't true. Even just remembering that feeling…" she shuddered and broke into tears.

Ron comforted her while Harry continued on with Hermione and his story. Ginny just stared at him, tears falling from her eyes, as he retold their encounter with Nagini and Voldemort at Christmas. When Harry was finished he suggested to Ron that it was best for him to continue George spoke up.

"Where were you Ron? When you left, where'd you go?"

Ron bowed his head and explained his remorse, and his futile attempts to return. Then to his near miss with the snatchers and his escape to Bill and Fleur's. Angry eyes darted to the couple who shrunk into the shadows avoiding the gazes.

"AND WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME BILL?" Molly shouted through tears.

"MUM!" Ron interjected, "It was my fault! I was ashamed, I didn't want anyone to know."

Harry started before Molly could argue "And on that matter. That part of the story is true. Ron and I fought, I forced him to leave. However this is not to be repeated to the public. If some of it must, just briefly mention we were separated."

"But?"

"No Kingsley! We can't explain the horcruxes to the public, what if someone takes a liking to them?" eyebrows suddenly rose in the air, "and if we can't explain the horcruxes then they'll think badly of Ron. You catch my drift?"

Kingsley nodded. Others suddenly understood just how dangerous their new found knowledge of Voldemort's defeat was.

"Ron, perhaps you should continue."

"Right, thanks Harrys."

And the story continued. He explained the doe, with Harry interjecting with his knowledge about Snape, and lightly skimmed over their encounter with Xenophilius Lovegood, where Harry was again forced to take over. Although he tried to lighten their encounter with the snatchers and the Malfoys as much as he could (there was very little able to be lightened), the room was once again in tears.

There were a couple of minutes where the room paused to allow Ron and Hermione to shed their tears of pain, and for Molly to recover from the news.

Bill ended the silence by telling his family and the order their refuge and recovery at Shell Cottage. With this knowledge Molly calmed down.

Harry then had to explain their reasons for the Gringotts break-in, and the events that lead to them arriving at Hogwarts.

"The rest I suppose," Kingsley smiled, "Will be history."

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand and they too smiled. It was over.

"So you destroyed the last horcruxes?" George asked, his eyes were lining with tears, possibly remember his twin was not there to ask the question.

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione used a basilisk fang to destroy the cup, the diadem was taken by fiend fire, and Neville killed the snake."

"But Harry, you said there were seven?" Ginny took her hand away from his.

"Oh… Well… I… Snape…" Harry began stuttering, he'd forgotten about this.

Hermione pulled away from Ron, it seemed she hadn't stopped crying the whole meeting, and fiercely hugged Harry. Ginny's eyes were wide, not with jealousy but with the sudden realisation.

"No!" she screamed.

"Harry you can't be saying?" Hagrid too realised.

"My brother! You!" Aberforth swore.

"Harry," Molly whispered, "What's going on?"

"I was the last horcrux. That's… That's why we were so connected, a part of him was in me," Harry let go of Hermione and she resumed holding Ron's hand, "Through complicated circumstances, I learnt the only way to kill Voldemort was for him to kill me. It would destroy him."

Only a few people were left able to question him further. Arthur took it upon himself to do so.

"How did you live?" he asked simply.

"I don't know," Harry lied and rubbed his face with his hands, "But, when I came back. Narcissa Malfoy was the one to tell Voldemort I was dead. I told her Draco was alive and she let me live in return. I'm not sure if she knew I would kill Voldemort if she let me live, but she defied him and saved me."

"It will be noted in the court proceedings Harry," Kingsley commented, "But I doubt it will do much. Is that all there is to tell?"

Harry was exhausted and his throat dry so he barely nodded.

"Right," Kingsley continued, "We should leave these three to recover after their telling. If you'd mind Molly, Minerva and I would like to talk to our heroes, then you'd be free to fill their empty stomachs."

Molly managed to laugh and wave Kingsley away as everyone filed out of the room. Ginny was reluctant to let go but negotiated to wait just outside the door. When only the five remained inside Professor McGonagall spoke.

"You three are unbelievable! I daresay in centuries to come your story will be nothing more than a myth such as the Hallows."

The three shared shy smiles.

"To business Minerva," Kingsley indicated her to return to seriousness, "We wish to make you an offer. You three, along with Neville Longbottom, will be given the opportunity to forgo NEWTs and enter the Auror program immediately, with training of course."

"If however," Professor McGonagall took over, "You wish to continue with your studies that were taken from you this past year, you may redo seventh year. That offer is awarded to anyone effected by Voldemort's control of the Ministry and Hogwarts."

The three were beaming, Ron was frozen with a big grin, unable to move in shock. Hermione had immediately jumped with joy at McGonagall's words, and Harry felt happy again, spurred on by his friends own happiness.

Kingsley laughed, "Do you need time to think Ron?"

"No sir! Well, maybe not an immediate start," he sobered up, "There's still things to do. Family to… Can it wait until September?"

"Of course, of course! Harry? Hermione?"

They turned to each other and it was Hermione who spoke first, "Sir, I'm grateful but, if you don't mind, I'd like to return to Hogwarts for my last year."

McGonagall smiled at her answer, pulling her aside to speak in whispers about preparations.

"Sir," Harry spoke quietly, "I'd love to join."

Kingsley gave each boy a hand shake and a thump on the back before turning on his heel to make to the exit.

"Oh excuse me, Mr Shacklebolt!" Hermione called from her and McGonagall's corner, "May I have a word with you?"

"Yes my dear?"

"I…" she looked around shyly, "I need a favour. My parents, they're in Australia. Or, at least I think they are. I modified their memories so they couldn't be traced to me. I'm so sorry but-!"

"Miss Granger it's fine. I happen to completely understand the situation and will contact the Australian Ministry of Magic to help locate your parents."

With that he left the room with McGonagall, now finished speaking with Hermione, in his tow. Ron and Hermione left hand-in-hand, but when Harry exited he saw no sight of them, only Ginny still waiting patiently.

"Ginny I'm…"

"Shh… It's OK. Just… Kiss me."

He did.


End file.
